


Shaxx/Drifter Banter

by occasional_boy_reporter



Series: Destiny Drabbles and Short Fic [10]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 15:45:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: Literally what it says.





	Shaxx/Drifter Banter

**Author's Note:**

> When I attempted to write Shaxx/Drifter for Kinktober, I made a couple false starts but I still think these are amusing takes on their possible interaction so here are a couple discarded setups just for funsies.

**the one where I address that silly gate to the alley, someone of authority addresses Drifter's presence in the Tower, Drifter puts a positive spin on Gambit, and I accidental made Shaxx too responsible to fuck the Drifter**

 

  Metal shutters squeal in protest when Lord Shaxx yanks them off their track in his haste to seal the looming encounter from the rest of the Tower.

  “Hey now!” The Drifter's face is twisted with genuine indignation as he emerges from behind a haphazardly strung curtain that hides the end of the nook he's taken as his own. “I just got that piece of junk to go all the way up!”

  “Why are you here?” Shaxx demands, never stopping his march and hauling the Drifter up by his lapels when the man doesn't have the sense to back away. They stumble their way over boxes of Vex parts and other questionable materials, and nearly take down the curtain before the Drifter finally hits the far wall with a winded grunt.

  But it's a greasy smile that spreads across his face when the Drifter looks up at the blank helmet casting a shadow over him and winks. “Heard you were looking for me. Didn't think you'd get here so soon. Haven't even unpacked.”

  Shaxx braces one heavy arm across the Drifter’s chest and doesn't bat an eye when the man winces beneath him.  “I politely asked why you're here.”

  He draws his weapon to be clear that 'politely' is a relative word and that he might just as easily 'welcome' the Drifter by sinking a bullet into him.

  “I'm here for the same reason as you,” the Drifter pouts with mock innocence. “To raise the next generation of strapping, young Guardians.”

  “Your lies are as abysmal as I remember.”

  “Who's lying? You and I share a lot of interests! In fact, got this cozy little spot here if you're in a sharing mood now.” Drifter caresses the cracked wall at his back like it's a luxury bed and Shaxx tenses against the slimy wave of implication that washes over him and leaves him feeling like he's been sweating in his armor for days without end. “Come on. Put that gun away. You're not gonna shoot me here in the Tower. Not with all those civilians walking around out there.”

  Shaxx struggles with the fact that he actually agrees. In the end, he takes a step back, though he does keep his weapon trained on the obvious bulge in dark pants.

 

 

**alternate dialogue that I cut from the final Kinktober piece where Shaxx and Drifter decide who gets a new battlefield**

 

   “There we go,” the Drifter purrs in victory when Shaxx's helmet hits the floor. “Much more polite to chat face to face, innit?”

   Even without the helmet, Shaxx towers a head above the man who has him pinned to the wall. He doesn't know why the Drifter is here or how he got the drop on Shaxx so quietly, but he does know the man is dangerous and trouble is likely on his heels.

   “Well, don't have a coronary,” the Drifter frowns at the death glare Shaxx is giving him. “I know we last saw each other under some less than pleasant circumstances but-”

   The fact that Drifter's gun is tucked beneath Shaxx's chin only adds to old annoyance. “You stole an anti-aircraft gun, detonated an experimental reactor, and left me buried under half a mountain. I lost a whole squad of Red Jacks.”

   “But you made it out fine! And I'm sure you learned a valuable lesson from defeat or some shit. Here,” Drifter husks as his hands creep toward his fly, “a peace offering.”

   The pop of a button and the drag of a zipper reverberating make the crowded space of the tunnel smaller.

   “I could not possibly be less interested,” Shaxx growls but there isn't so much as the room to step back when Drifter tries to grind up his thigh.

   “A bad liar should never lie to a good one,” the Drifter shakes his head mournfully and cups Shaxx's groin with aggressive fingers, “especially when there’s such a _large_ collection of evidence against you.”

   “Remove your hand or I'll do it for you.”

   It's not a question so much as a challenge that quirks the Drifter's brow. “You really think you got too good to fuck me in a couple hundred years?”

   “Involving myself with you at all was a mistake of youth.”

   Narrow eyes clamp shut in a dramatic wince. “Eeeh... Hardly fair to call it ‘youth’ just because we fucked in your first century.”

 


End file.
